


Hunger

by C_Diva (thecollective)



Series: DSB Tumblr Drabbles [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom!Cas, Destiel Smut Brigade, M/M, Prompt Fill, Rimming, Smut, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:56:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecollective/pseuds/C_Diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas aches for Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Promo fill: Starvation

Castiel remembers how it felt to be hungry, those first days after he pummeled to the ground, after Metatron had sliced grace from his throat and everything had changed. The gnawing, constant tug in his belly, the overwhelming need for reprise from an ache that would not be fulfilled that made him want to cry and scream at the same time. When he felt starvation edging throughout him, satisfying that need was the only thing he could think about. When Cas didn’t have any money, he stole, sneaking food out underneath his shirt, as he had seen Dean do once, with a candy bar. The compulsion to eat, multiple times every day, annoyed the former angel, and he often ignored or forgot or pretended he didn’t have to, until, of course, he did. When he returned to Dean, finally, he appreciated the concern the other man showed him, feeding Castiel constantly, “mother henning”, Sam called it, until Cas had to gently remind Dean that he’d been on his own for a while and could, in fact, take care of himself. But since he returned to the Winchesters, Cas never refused a meal, even if he only picked at his french fries or let Dean eventually finish his hamburger. He had learned, while on his own, to appreciate the things that Dean did for him. To relish in the attention and to never take it for granted.

Which is why, as he lay in their bed, Dean’s tongue flicking gently at his rim, pushing, tentatively, at the sensitive skin there, Castiel was reminded of true hunger. The sensation of Dean crouching between his knees, face buried deep in Castiel’s body, hot breath against his ass, made him want to cry and scream at the same time, but all he could do was moan Dean’s name over and over again as tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. He felt desperate, convinced he might die if Dean did not push harder with his tongue, get him wet, fuck him, now.  

“Please, Dean, please.”

But Castiel did not even know what he was asking for, not really. He was not sure if he wanted release, a reprise from the ache building in his gut or something more. He shuddered and grabbed on to strong shoulders as Dean pressed into him, soft and slow, lining the length of his body against Castiel’s, until both of them were sweat slicked and sore.


End file.
